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“That’s okay, we have time.”
“I want a divorce.” His hand pauses, then it moves again. “I also want you to kiss me.”
Whiskey stops, putting my foot gently down on the bed and turns around. My eyes open as I watch him come closer, his body hovering to the side of me.
It may be the alcohol that makes me see things, but the way he’s looking at me, it scares me. Whiskey’s staring at me the way you do at someone you love. As if he only has eyes for me. He hasn’t always looked at me like that. When did that change? How did this change?
“You’re looking at me weird,” I say to him.
“It’s because I’m seeing you differently, and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.”
Before I can change my mind or push him away, his lips touch mine ever so softly. It’s as if I will break any second. A tear slips free from my eye, and I don’t understand why. But he doesn’t stop, his lips apply more pressure as they claim mine. His soft lips move, and in doing so, I open my mouth for him as he claims my tongue. He’s gentle, soft, caring, and it’s not like we haven’t kissed before. No, this is more cautious, as if he’s worried this will be our last kiss. It just may be, but I’m not ready to stop him yet.
His hands touch my face, cupping it, as he looks into my eyes.
Will this be our last kiss?
I don’t push him away. His lips are like a beautifully toxic thing, you want it, but you know you shouldn’t. I can feel something in my chest hurt, like a pain I can’t quite describe.
Whiskey is nothing I wanted, but everything I need.
I can’t lie to my drunken self any longer.
My feelings for Whiskey are there, even when I want to hide them and run away from them. They are there and they are full force.
Pushing him away, he stays above me, his lips wet and red from our kiss.
“You should go,” I manage to say.
“I can stay.”
My head shakes before my mouth can say yes.
“I don’t want to go,” he says, leaning down, touching my lips with another soft kiss. “But I will.” He pushes up, and when he stands, he straightens his shirt and looks down on me. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. It’s one of the reasons I could do what I did. Because I wanted you. There was never any question about that.” Whiskey turns and walks out, leaving me drunk and aroused as I lie on the bed, confused by his words.
CHAPTER 34
WHISKEY
I send her a message the following day, she doesn’t reply. When I go to the house, she isn’t there, and neither are her things.
I give her another day before I head to her work.
When I go there, the manager tells me she hasn’t been in at all or notified them why. She shrugs her shoulders before she walks off.
Calling her cell, it doesn’t even ring. Simply goes straight to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Lottie. I can’t answer the phone right now. I’m too busy living my best life in Paris.” Then it goes blank.
Heading to where she used to live with Emma, I bang on the door and the person who answers it, I don’t expect.
“Man, what are you doing here?” Barry says, rubbing his face as if he’s just woken up.
“Where is she?” I ask, looking behind him.
Barry opens the door wider, and I don’t see her things. “You mean Lottie?” I nod. “She stopped by this morning to say goodbye. I assumed you were going with her.”
“Where?”
